


Teach Me How to Dance with You

by ReadItandWeepFics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Trauma, physical injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 10:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14669613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadItandWeepFics/pseuds/ReadItandWeepFics
Summary: After the reader sustains an injury from a mission gone bad, Bucky makes her a promise. One she is determined he keeps. Will Bucky disappoint her?





	Teach Me How to Dance with You

**Author's Note:**

> This got so long, and I’m sorry. Also, not really sorry because it was way too fun to write! Though it might be trash now as I wrote it while half awake. This doesn’t take place in any specific time in the MCU, just a super sappy idea that popped into my head. Please feel free to leave any feedback! 
> 
> Soundtrack:
> 
> “Teach Me How to Dance with You” - Causes
> 
> “How ‘Bout a Dance” - Laura Osnes (Broadway version)
> 
> “They Say It’s Wonderful” - Frank Sinatra

Distant rumbling shakes the destroyed building. Small clumps of concrete drop like hail. The heavy slab of wall shifts lower, putting more pressure on your pinned leg. You groan in pain; your brain scrambling to figure a way out. You had tried to contact the others, but your comm had been damaged in the explosion. 

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Clear out the Hydra cell, take back any intel gathered. Except that someone had been ready for you. 

The ground shakes again as more aftershocks roll through the vicinity. The wall moves another inch lower. You scream this time, the pain becoming unbearable. You wonder briefly if this is where you’ll die when you hear someone shouting. You crane your neck to see who’s coming. A dark figure cautiously creeps through the dust and smoke, body in a battle ready stance.

“I’m – here! Please, help me!” Your voice grates against your throat, coughing as you inhale to speak.

The figure zeroes in on you, quickly approaching. It dawns on you that perhaps this wouldn’t be an ally, but an enemy. If it was an enemy then at least this pain would be over soon.

Relief floods your veins as soon as a certain super soldier’s features come into view. His eyes widen in recognition and he drops to your side.

“Y/N! Can you move?” Bucky asks, assessing your predicament.

You shake your head.

“No, my leg’s pinned. The wall fell as soon as the chaos started and I wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way.” You answer a bit ruefully.

You’re suddenly aware that the pain in your leg has subsided. In fact, all sensation of feeling is muted as you attempt to wiggle your toes. You fight the rising panic.

“I’m gonna lift this up and you need to move out from under it. You got that?” Bucky instructs.

You nod and brace your hands against the floor. Bucky positions his hands underneath the rubble and lifts, his metal arm whirring with the force needed to move the heavy object. As soon as it’s high enough you pull and kick with your good leg until you’ve slid clear of the debris. Bucky drops the slab to the floor.

It was like someone had dropped hundreds of fire ants down your leg, the sudden rush of blood tripling the dulled pain. You hold your breath, trying not to scream. Small black dot swim in your vision. You’re dimly aware of someone speaking, the agony making it hard to focus on anything else.

Without warning you feel yourself become weightless as two arms lock beneath your back and knees. The jostling movements as Bucky carries you quickly from the scene renew the pain in waves. You whimper pathetically and beg him to stop.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know it hurts, but we have to get you out of here. I promise, when this mess is over I’ll do whatever you ask, doll.”

You whimper again but nod and press your face into his shoulder, the coolness of the Vibranium soothing on your fevered cheek. You hear Bucky speak again.

“I’ve got Agent Y/L/N. She’s injured pretty bad. We’ll rendezvous at the quinjet.”

Steve responds though you don’t catch it. Bucky moves quickly, taking care not to jostle you too much. You attempt to keep your whimpers and groans to a minimum, though the trek to the jet feels like an eternity. As you two come up to it Steve careens around a corner and ushers you in. 

Bucky sets you onto a seat and begins strapping you in as Nat, Sam, and the rest of the team barrel into the jet. Steve walks over to you. He kneels to inspect your wound, gingerly lifting the torn cloth and prodding the flesh beneath.

“What happened?” He asks you, his piercing blues staring up at you.

“Explosion… concrete wall…boom.” You weakly mimic the slab falling down with your arm. Your head lulls to the side. “Couldn’t move.”

Steve hums in understanding and resumes his examination. He nods once.

“The good thing is the skin isn’t broken, but you could be bleeding internally. Not to mention that the bone might be broken. Fractured at the least.” He says, a little relieved though still a bit grim.

Now that eminent danger was diverted the adrenaline was wearing off. Your eyes feel heavy and you struggle to keep them open. They drift close and Steve digs his thumb into your wounded leg. You yelp and yank away from his grasp, eyes snapping open to glare at him. He grins repentantly.

“Sorry Y/N, but we need to you stay awake until we can get you properly checked.”

“Well then, stop probing my poor leg and get this thing in the air already!” You whine, a little too petulant. You were hurt; you were allowed to be a little childish.

He leaves you be and begins giving commands to head back to the tower. Bucky takes the seat to your left and straps himself in. You incline your head towards him, trying to focus on his movements to stay awake. When he’s finished he rests his hand against his thigh, waiting for lift off.

You study his hand for a moment. On instinct you reach for it. Bucky pulls back the second your fingers make contact with his skin, but then he turns his hand over and laces his fingers with yours.

Silence passes between you two for a beat, then you mumble, “Dancing.”

Bucky cocks his head, one eyebrow quirked. “What?”

“You said… you would do.. anything I asked. I want… you to.. dance with me.” You pant, the effort to remain conscious taking its toll.

He smirks and narrows his eyes at you, “Any particular reason for that request?”

You clumsily shake your head, eyes dropping closed. A sharp pain spreads over your cheek. You crack open your left eye and scowl. Bucky’s smirk widens and releases his hold on your pinched cheek.

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

••• 

Recovering from you injury was a bitch. The silver lining had been that, thanks to Tony’s fancy, high – tech machines, you’d be able to walk again. The dark cloud had been the endless, and oh did you mean endless, weeks of healing and physical therapy.

A super soldier with incredible healing abilities you were not. Damn them.

No matter the struggle, you’d been determined to make a fast recovery. Tony Stark’s annual Avengers Gala has been two months away. Normally that wouldn’t interest you much, but this time was different. This time you had the procured promise of one Winter Soldier for a dance.

You recall the night you’d found a somber Rogers nursing a glass of whiskey, though it didn’t do much for him. You’d sat and listened to him reminisce about the good ol’ days. He told you how Bucky would try to set him up on dates and force him to go dancing. Steve bragged about how light on his feet Bucky used to be. He could sweep any dame he wanted off onto the dance floor and she’d be his. However, once he’d come back he never indulged in such things anymore. He figured Bucky felt he didn’t have a right to, after all the damaged he caused.

It made your heart ache. After all he’d been through Bucky deserved more than the self – hatred he’d been made to feel. You wanted to give him back a piece of himself, even if for a moment. The problem was you’d just never had the nerve to broach the subject with him.

Until the accident. Perhaps it’d been the thought of never seeing him again without telling him how you feel, the delirium from your injury, or a bit of both. What ever the case, you couldn’t stop picturing a scene with just the two of you dancing, Bucky smiling ear to ear. The image was so perfect you could believe you had died. So, without overthinking it, you’d asked him.

You’d been elated when he agreed. You worked hard and it had paid off, and he’d been there to help you initially. However, as the weeks went by Bucky became more reclusive. A dark shadow seemed to hang off of him, and it made you nervous. The Gala couldn’t come at a better time.

Now you sit in your wheelchair impatiently waiting for the elevator to take you down to the party. You smooth your hands over your curls and down to your white dress skirt, fiddling with the twin splits up to the tops of your thighs where intricate lace peaked through. You could walk now, in short bursts, but you couldn’t pass up the little show you could put on by once you joined in the partying. 

The elevator doors ding and slide open to reveal a very sophisticated Natasha. She wore a form – fitting, slate gray dress. Her fiery red hair is piled high on her head, little ringlets falling to frame her face. She looks stunning, as always. Nat whistles when you come into view. You roll your eyes but you grin widely. As you both settle into the descending compartment you shiver. Your veins buzz with the nervous anticipation. 

“Are you ready?” Nat asks as she grips the handles for your wheelchair.

“Umm, excited, yes. Ready?... I’m not so sure yet.” You respond.

Nat pushes you out of the elevator and towards the double doors at the end of the hall. She steadies the seat as you stand.

“It’s going to be great, now get in there!” She encourages.

You take one last deep breath, roll back your shoulders, and waltz in. Your first steps are little wobbly, and you question for a moment if wearing the heels had been a good idea. You find your balance though and walk a little more confidently.

The event is in full swing. Civilians and agents mill about, chatting, laughing, and schmoozing the other Avengers. So many beautiful people but you are only interested in finding one in particular. As your eyes scan the crowd Steve steps in front of you, arms spread wide to take you all in. A beaming smile splits his face.

“Look at you! It’s good to see you are up on your feet again.” He exclaims, wrapping you up in a giant bear hug.

You laugh softly and return the embrace.

“Thanks, it’s good to be able to move around on my own. Have you seen…” you let the sentence trail off, slightly embarrassed to be so intent on the task at hand.

Steve pulls away and chuckles softly. He stands to the side and points to the bar in the far right corner.

“He’s over there. It took a lot to get him dressed and down here, so he’s brooding over a glass of bourbon. Seeing you might cheer him up though.” Steve pats your back good naturedly and steps behind you to greet Natasha.

Your heart flips inside your chest at the sight of him. Bucky looks stunning in the black, tailored suit. His dark, shaggy hair slicked back from his face. He turns his head at that moment to gaze out at the crowd. A small strand of hair falls rebelliously over his forehead, making him look a little more vulnerable than usual. As if attracted to your staring his dazzling blue eyes lock onto yours. Your spirits dampen a little at the dark circles under them, his look a little hollow.

You begin to make your way over to Bucky, but every few feet someone stops you to congratulate you on your recovery and make small talk. Your gaze drifts back to Bucky every now and then. He had turned back around, hunched over the bar.

After what felt like an eternity you finally made it over. You lean against the counter and shift your body towards Bucky, beaming up at him. He continues to bore holes into the countertop. The circles under his eyes appear much worse this close up. Your smile falters a bit. You reach up for his hand.

"Hey, are you okay?" You squeeze your fingers around his metal palm. 

His eyes flick up to your face, breaking himself out of his daze. He inhales deeply and adjusts his stance, drawing his hand out of yours in the process. You try not to let your disappointment show.

"Yeah, I'm great. Couldn't be better." He states flatly, a small lopsided grin forming but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks a little wild, like an animal caged and in desperate need to flee. You study him silently for a moment before you attempt to reach out to him again. Placing a gentle touch against his shoulder you try once more to get him to confide in you.

"I just... I'm worried about you." You hope your eyes convey the feeling and sincerity in your words.

Bucky holds your gaze for a beat before he scoffs.

"No need to worry about me, doll. I'm as fine as a warm, summer day in July." He takes a swig of his bourbon, grimacing as it burns down. 

He returns to sullenly staring at the counter. You watch him sadly, letting your hand drift slowly down his metal arm. You feel each ridge through his suit. The band changes songs and your mind registers the slower tempo. Your smile regains its strength and you renew your efforts to draw Bucky away from the bar.

"Come on, I think I know a way to cheer you up" Your voice eager as you turn to pull him to the dance floor. 

The farther you walk away, however, you feel Bucky's hand disappear from your hold. You slowly spin back and watch as Bucky pushes off the bar counter and heads to the exit, dragging his glass long the top. When he reaches the edge, he throws back his head and downs the rest of his alcohol. The glass clinks against the surface as he sets it back down and leaves through the doors you had entered. 

You stand there at a loss, your high spirits quickly deflating. You knew it was silly to think so, but it felt like all eyes were on you and had witnessed your spectacular failure. A hand brushes against your shoulder and you jump. You look up at Steve's sympathetic face. At least one person had seen. He holds out his hand to you.

"I may not be as good a partner as him, but could I have this dance?” Steve asks. 

You force a small smile and place your hand in his, your vision becoming blurry with unshed tears. He leads you to the dance floor and pulls you into position. You allow him to lead you through the song, eyes downcast at your feet.

"Hey."

You glance up to Steve's face. He smiles gently. "Give him some time, he's going through a bad time."

You cast your eyes to the floor once more, saying nothing. The band closes the song and Steve tucks your arm through his, leading you around the room to mingle. You put on a brave face, being polite and friendly. A little while later Sam asks you to dance and you nod, pulling away from Steve. It's enjoyable and you appreciate their kindness in trying to cheer you, but you just want to wallow in self – pity. After an hour passes you decide enough time has passed to make excuses and retreat to your bedroom. 

Everyone urges you to stay and revel a little more but you blame your departure on your healing leg and bow out. It wasn't a complete lie; a slow ache had begun in your muscle. Only when the elevator doors slide close do you allow yourself to shed the tears you'd been holding at bay. Some enchanted evening this turned out to be.

••• 

Bucky shoots up off of his bed as his nightmare jolts him awake. He pants heavily, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He looks down at his chest; the white dress shirt he'd passed out in clinging to his form from the sweat pouring out of his body. Bucky flops back down on the mattress breathing slowly to calm his rapidly beating heart.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. Y/N is safe.

Probably. He hoped you were safe. He'd retreated from Stark's asinine party to ensure you'd be safe. From him.

The nightmares weren't an unusual thing. They'd plagued him since he'd come out of being the Winter Soldier. His past misdeeds coming back in pieces to haunt him. Now, though, they had begun to morph. Making Bucky believe he might be responsible for everything that failed in missions against Hydra. He had been their assassin after all. Couldn't they still find a way to control him?

They now begun to convince him he had caused the explosion that hurt Y/N. His relief had been so instantaneous when he'd found her that he'd wanted to do nothing more than hold her and keep her safe. He had determined to get closer to her when they got back. Then the nightmares made him realize how wrong he'd be for Y/N. Bucky had nothing good to offer her; just heartache and pain.

Since then he'd started distancing himself from her. He had intended never to set foot downstairs tonight, but Steve had been so adamant he attend Bucky couldn't really say no. The moment Y/N walked into the room he'd wanted to pull her close and never let go. She looked so radiant, and when she'd seen him? That smile would keep him warm for days. Bucky loathed how much he'd enjoyed her touch. She was too good for him. She didn't understand the things he'd done, not really. Which is why he'd needed to leave. 

Here in his quiet room Bucky could strengthen his resolve to let her go. He swallows, the saliva sticking to his parched throat. He needed another drink, though it did nothing really. Just quenched a thirst. Figuring the party had long ended he makes his way back downstairs to the bar.

He's surprised to find Steve sitting alone at the bar when he arrives. Steve pours and downs a series of shots attempting to get enough alcohol in his system to generate a buzz. Bucky slides into the seat next to him and pours himself a shot. Steve glances over and snorts. He shakes his head in disapproval. 

"You're a real jackass, you know that?" Steve says, a tinge of anger to his voice.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Not that I'm disagreeing, but what is it for this time?" He challenges.

Steve inclines his head to stare at Bucky for a moment. He shakes his head again and throws back another shot.

"If you really aren't aware then maybe don't make promises you don't intend to keep. My god, you didn't have to see her face. It was like you'd kicked a puppy"

Bucky furrows his brows. Now he was really confused. He downs his own shot and slams it onto the counter.

"Kicked a puppy? What the hell are you talking about?" He demands.

"Y/N! She'd been working so hard to be able to dance with you tonight but your head is so far up your ass that you can't appreciate all that effort. A beautiful woman wanted to make you happy, but you're too busy focusing on sulking. I'm certain she's given up now." Steve brings the glass to his lips but thinks better of it. He sets the glass back down.

Bucky sits stunned. The alcohol he'd just consumed churning uncomfortably in his stomach. He had made Y/N that promise, hadn't he? That's where she'd been trying to lead him tonight but he'd been too stubborn to notice. He had wanted to keep her safe, not hurt her with his perceived callousness. Bucky rests his head against the counter, exhaling loudly. 

"I'm an idiot." He admits to Steve.

Steve hums in agreement. Bucky needed to make this right, at least for Y/N's sake. He lifts his head and gazes at his lifelong friend.

"Help me fix this." He asks.

"How?" Steve stares at him one eyebrow cocked in question.

Bucky mulls it over for a minute, an idea formulating. He smirks and says, "Do you think you have a way of getting onto Stark's landing platform?"

••• 

You had gone to bed hours ago but sleep was far from you tonight. You'd wept heavily and though the tears had stopped flowing your depressed mood kept replaying the disaster of tonight over and over, trying to discover what you'd done wrong. To top it all off, you really had overdone the walking. The dull throbbing of over exertion radiating up your thigh, adding to your misery.

It'd all been for nothing. 

You thought sadly. You could get up and take some pain killers, but you decide to use the pain to indulge in your pity party.

A soft knocking sounds at your door. You ignore it hoping whoever it is will assume you'd fallen asleep and leave you alone. A minute passes before the action is repeated. Again, and again. The fourth time you sigh in frustration. You'd think they'd get the hint! You sit up in bed pulling the covers up to your hips before you lean over and switch on your beside lamp.

"Come in." You grumble trying to infuse as much annoyance into your voice as possible.

You weren't really sure who you'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been Bucky. You glance down at his feet as he stands in the doorway, unable to meet his gaze. Neither of you says anything for a moment. Beginning to feel awkward you clear your throat.

"Is there something you want, James?" You rarely used his given name, but your feelings were still raw from his snub. Endearing nicknames were not what you wanted to use right now.

When he still doesn't respond you huff and shift away from him, flinging the covers over yourself. You really didn't want to play games. You hear his footsteps approach and travel across to the other side of the bed. You shut your eyes as soon as you feel the covers slide down your head and body. Another moment of silence passes. Finally, Bucky sighs and murmurs,

"Y/N, please look at me."

You want to refuse him, but curiosity won out. You slowly open your eyes and peer up at him, hoping the puffiness from your bout of crying isn't noticable. Bucky kneels, carefully picking up your hands and gingerly holding them against his firm chest. You feel the steady rhythm of his heart underneath. You glance at your joined hands than back up to his face, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"I want a do over." He says finally, "I'm a complete idiot, I know. I need you to understand that I never wanted to hurt you. I made you a promise, and I never break my promises. Just ask Steve." He winks and grins widely, trying to alleviate the tension.

His mood swings were starting to make you feel like you were on a roller coaster. One moment he was sweet as honey towards you, the next he was acting like he wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole. It was getting tiresome.

"James..." You pull at your hands but they remain firm in his grasp. You inhale a shaky breath, tears pricking your eyes anew.

You drop your gaze to your body lying on the bed. You had wanted to give him one perfect night. The gift of one good memory out of so many bad ones. Now instead of the gorgeous gown you’d been wearing you were dressed in a plain chemise. Your curled hair brushed out, not to mention your face. It was scrubbed clean of makeup, a combination of you washing or crying it off. No, this was not how you had pictured yourself appearing when you made this memory. You offered a more practical excuse than this however.

"James, it's too late. I wanted tonight to be special for you, but I can't even stand right now. I – I over did it tonight. My leg is killing me and I'd be useless as a dance partner." You laugh bitterly.

Bucky is quiet for few seconds, his thumbs grazing the backs of your hands lazily. You can physically see the lightbulb go off in his head when he gives you a sly grin.

"I can work around that."

••• 

After a little more convincing on his part, you agree to Bucky's do – over. He cautiously scoops you up and carries you bridal – style out into the hallway. Just as he had the day you'd been injured, although this time was much more pleasant.

Inside the elevator you rest you head on his shoulder, content to be close to Bucky like this. You let your eyelids shut for a moment, soothed by his even breathing. The elevator dips as it stops. You’re aware of the gentle sway a he resumes walking but you keep your eyes closed, trusting him.

“Open your eyes, doll.” Bucky whispers softly.

You comply, looking up at his face before shifting your gaze outwards. Your breath is taken by the sight.

Amid the stars and city lights below Tony’s landing pad twinkles with flashing lights. A soft wind blows a few strands of hair across your face as Bucky moves you out on the center of it. The blinking lights illuminate you both. It was like you’d stepped out into the middle of the sky, surrounded by the tiny celestial bodies.

Lost in your wonderment you’re caught by surprise as Bucky gently drops your legs. He easily catches you by your waist before your feet even touch the ground, careful not to put weight on your healing leg.

He draws you closer, placing your feet atop his as the sound of an old forties song begins to play around you. You hold Bucky’s gaze with wide eyes, speechless. 

“I know it’s a little late, but may I have this dance?”   
He asks in earnest.

You can only nod shyly. He smirks and wraps his metal arm around your middle, supporting your weight as he moves his feet to sway to the music.

As the music continues you laugh quietly, a little giddy from the whirlwind of emotions you’d felt that night. You press your cheek against his shoulder. Trying to memorize the feel of his arm pressed to your back. The soft material of his dress shirt wrinkled beneath your hands. The words of the music playing. You feel Bucky’s breath whisper against your ear.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize my mistake. I just… didn’t want you hurt because… of what I am. What I’ve been.” He admits.

You lift your head to stare into his clear blue eyes, the low light deepening them. Suddenly you’re aware of the hidden emotion in them, afraid of what they’ll find in your returning gaze. He was opening himself up to you, part of him expecting you to reject him. You notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, uncomfortable with your scrutiny.

You smile sweetly, placing a gentle hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter closed as he presses his face into your palm, so touch starved.

 

“Everyone was some darkness in their past, Bucky. You, Nat, Steve, Sam… even me. You can’t dwell in it forever, but if you must then let me stay in that darkness with you.” You intone quietly.

Bucky doesn’t respond, letting your words work themselves into his mind. The song slows and he dips you. You let your knees bend with the motion, holding his gaze. Without much thought you lean up and press your lips to his.

You would have thought you’d prodded him with a taser the way he jumped back. So caught off guard he drops you flat on your back, breaking the magic of the moment. You burst into laughter as Bucky swears and drops to his knees, apologizing. He scoops you into his lap, running his hands along your body, inspecting if he’d hurt you.

“I’m fine, Bucky. I’m a little sturdier than that. A little fall isn’t going to kill me.” You grasp his face between your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You’re a good man, James Buchanan Barnes. I believe in you, even if you don’t.” You say gently.

He glances down a moment, his hands trailing along your waist as he draws you closer.

“I’m beginning to understand that.” He says just before he captures you lips once more in a burning kiss.


End file.
